


I had a Sister once...

by lilija_the_red



Series: one shots - photo inspired [6]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Grief, Guilt, Hurt, Loss, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 06:24:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4735778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilija_the_red/pseuds/lilija_the_red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's all his fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I had a Sister once...

**Author's Note:**

> This piece's picture is this beauty:  
> http://40.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lo58fsVcuZ1qbc18do1_400.jpg

He sees her when he closes his eyes.  
The dark hair (dark like his, but with a natural shimmer and beautiful locks  instead of a mop of tangled knots), the pale skin ( pale like his but with rosy cheeks and a supernatural shine behind), red full lips hiding a wonderful smile (unlike his crooked one). A smile, so bright it can easily light up a room full of darkness in an instance. Can-no, could…  
Because the smile is forgotten now, the rosy cheeks are gone. Replaced by unnatural shadows, cased by the neon light above and the red red lips are long turned blue. No breath will ever cross these lips again… No mocking word, no loving joke, no swear, no laugh. Nothing. Never again.  
Sometimes, when he closes his eyes and forces himself to concentrate, he can still hear her laugh (bright, like the sunshine, the sound of angels singing their songs). But whenever he manages to fight the fogs in his mind, in his memories, the pain; whenever he hears that laugh again (only the echo but it’s better than nothing isn’t it?)  her screams always sound louder. Always her screams before she drew her last breath- And those stay. Not the years of shared laughter, only those screams of pain and fear and innocent disappointment. Nothing can silence them, nothing can stop them. He knows. He has tried. (Oh, how he’d tried…)  
But he knows, nothing can erase those last moments from his mind. Nothing can help to numb the pain. The guilt. Nothing could fix this failure, this mistake. He has failed. And she had been the one to bear the prize, when it should be him on the table under the neon lights. Him, in the small wooden box. Him 6 feet underground in the dirt and mud. All alone in the darkness over the never ever after. Him. Not the little sunshine that once had been his life. Not the little pain in the ass he had loved never the less. Not the beautiful young woman with dark locks and the red full lips and this beautiful wonderful smile. Not her, never her.   
But she’s dead. And it is his fault.


End file.
